


Sometimes I Love You Sounds So Good

by Whreflections



Series: Oklahoma verse [5]
Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 23:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has been in Nashville 2 months working on his new album, and missing Steve is starting to drive him just a little crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes I Love You Sounds So Good

**Author's Note:**

> 57\. Lunch

This song just wasn’t going well. He’d been in the studio since 9:30 that morning, and after laying down some of the vocals for a track they’d started on yesterday he’d sat down to try and finish writing a song he’d had in the works for the past week. He’d played over everything he had, read the words over and over and tried to find the next verse, but no dice. This one just wasn’t cooperating with him, and he probably should’ve moved on and started something new but he didn’t really have the motivation for that either.   
  
He was gettin’ a little tired of this. It’d been two months since he left L.A., and he was missing Steve like crazy. They talked nearly every day on the phone but it just wasn’t the same. Every time they’d been apart before, it had been in snatches of weeks at a time, never a full stretch this long. Not to mention, working on music by himself still felt foreign. After so many years of writing mostly with Steve by his side, this was something new. Of course, wishing Steve was here to help him with the song wasn’t really helping the whole missing Steve like a severed limb thing either.   
  
Just then his phone rang, and he threw the pen down and sat back in his chair, flipping it open and holding it up to his ear, his other arm slung over his guitar to hold it in his lap. “Hello?”   
  
“Hey.”   
  
His heart jerked at Steve’s voice the way it always did, and he sat back just a little farther, kicking his feet up in the chair across from him. “You’ve got some good timing, you know that?”   
  
Steve laughed, soft and warm. “I do, huh? What’s goin’ on?”   
  
“Nothin’, that’s the problem. I’m just…Steve, I’ve been starin’ at this song on and off for like a week. It’s not goin’ anywhere.”   
  
“Well maybe you can play it for me tonight and we can figure something out.”   
  
He coulda played it for him now, but it sounded like Steve was busy. He should’ve expected that, and it shouldn’t be disappointing, but still… “Yeah, maybe. What’re you up to?”   
  
“On my way to go meet somebody for lunch.”   
  
He sounded pretty damn happy about that, whoever it was, and Christian couldn’t help but feel a little left out. Here he was trying to get this album done so he could get back to Steve, and he couldn’t even manage that because the longer he was here getting back to Steve was 90% of what he could think about it. Apparently all that ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ really meant was that distance made you realize  _exactly_  how stupidly in love you really were. At this rate, he just might be able to turn out some good ol’ country songs about dogs dying and divorces and cheating and-  
  
“So, you’re not recording right now?”   
  
He shook himself out of thoughts. “Uh, no. Not right now. I was just tryin’ to finish this damn song.”   
  
“Chris, I know how you write, man. If it’s not there, starin’ at the paper isn’t gonna make it appear.” Obviously. He opened his mouth to snap out something along those lines but Steve kept talking. “You should take a break, go grab you some food, get your mind off things…”   
  
“Yeah, well, I think somebody left some pizza in the fridge down the hall. If it’s still there.”   
  
“Should go out and get you some fresh air.”   
  
“Steve, it’s like…30 degrees here, man. I mean I’m sure it’s great at home-“  
  
“Yeah, it is. Hey, I gotta go, but we’ll talk about your song tonight, ok?”   
  
Chris skimmed his hand over the strings, tried not to think about how much it seemed like Steve had called because he felt like he should more than because he actually wanted to talk. “It’s ok. Just, whenever, if you’ve got time.”   
  
“Chris-“  
  
“Bye, Steve.”   
  
He flipped the phone shut and slid it back into his pocket, and he wadded up the piece of paper in front of him and lobbed it toward the trashcan. He’d been sure that after 8 years their relationship could make it through anything, but now he wasn’t so sure coming out here had been the best idea after all. He’d just pulled out a fresh sheet of paper when he heard a soft knock on the door, and he looked up to see Diane in the doorway. She worked in mixing and he didn’t know her all that well yet, but she was nice enough.   
  
“Hey.”   
  
“Hey. Sorry to interrupt, Chris,-“ Yeah, like there was anything to interrupt. It wasn’t exactly a sea of creativity in here. “-but you’ve got a delivery downstairs?” He must’ve looked half as confused as she did, because she shrugged and gestured toward her office. “I don’t know, they just called up from the front desk and said you had to go pick it up yourself, whatever it is.”   
  
Yeah, he was pretty much at a loss as to what would’ve been sent  _here_  for him, but it was probably just something from the label. “Yeah, ok. Thanks, I’ll go down and check it out.”   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
Steve was starting to wonder if the element of surprise was really all it was cracked up to be. Christian had sounded positively wounded when he hung up, and he  _hated_  that. Sure, Chris was gonna be fine the minute he came downstairs but even so hurting him was the last thing he wanted. Granted, saying: ‘of course I miss you, you idiot, and I’m waiting on you in the lobby’ would’ve definitely ruined the surprise. It just killed him to think that Chris would even  _think_  Steve wasn’t missing him, and maybe they needed to have a talk about that later.   
  
At the moment, he put it out of his mind, because Chris had just stepped off the elevator. The double take was pretty hilarious, because his eyes skimmed over the lobby before he started heading over toward the desk, and it was at that point that he actually  _processed_  who he’d seen standing in the lobby and…  
  
“You  _fucker_!” The older lady at the desk didn’t seem too pleased with the language, but Chris was too busy coming over to meet him to notice. Steve grinned, laughing when Chris pulled him into a hug that didn’t leave him any room to breathe. Not that he cared; breathing was overrated. “Swear I’m gonna kick your ass.” The fact that threat was half mumbled as he buried his face against Steve’s neck pretty much negated anything remotely threatening about it.   
  
Steve held on just as tight, only reluctantly patting him on the back and letting him go when he felt like he had to. Considering Chris’ decision to work both TV and country music they could never really be ‘public’, and while that had bothered him enough that they’d almost broken up a couple years ago, he’d pretty much come to terms with it now. He had Chris, and the two of them and everyone important to them knew it. Nothing else really mattered.   
  
He couldn’t resist letting his hand linger on his shoulder just a little bit longer, though.  _God_  it had been too long since he’d touched him. “Can you kick my ass after lunch? I mean, I did fly all the way out here to see you, and I slept through the alarm so breakfast kind of wasn’t an option.”   
  
“I guess I can wait.” He ducked his head as they walked out the door, and Steve knew he was about to get some sort of Kane-speak apology. “Thought you were busy.”   
  
Chris had this calendar on his phone that he used to keep track of everything, all his commitments and his recording times and everything under the sun down to reminding him to call his momma every Sunday. Times like this, Steve wished he could’ve programmed it to prod Chris every now and then with a giant blinking ‘by the way, I fucking love you, you moron’. Instead, he shrugged. “Decided to cool it for a little bit. I mean, promotion for the last album’s kinda dyin’ down and I’m not ready to start work on anything new yet so…I’ve got a gig in a couple weeks I’ll have to fly back to L.A. for, but nothing after that. So if you want, I can-“  
  
“Hell yes.” Steve smiled, barely resisting the urge to turn and kiss him when Chris’ shoulder brushed against his as they stopped at a crosswalk. “The place is kind of a mess, cause I- you came and got the truck?”   
  
“Yeah. And I have to agree with you, place is a mess. Tell me, what’ve you been living off of other than Jack, pizza, and Chinese takeout?” Honestly, the apartment hadn’t been a mess so much as a train wreck. He’d spent about 30 minutes cleaning up the worst of it before he’d decided it was about time to get the car and try to come pick Chris up. There’d been an open bottle of Jack by the bed and an open Groovin’ On The Inside case next to it, and that had hurt more than a little. One of these days Chris was gonna have to learn that if he wanted something, all he needed to do was ask for it. He’d have come out here weeks ago.   
  
“Hey, it’s been workin’.”   
  
“Yeah, well, I know you’re more than capable of cooking.” Way more than capable. Awesome at it, in fact.   
  
He looked over to see Chris biting his lip. “Yeah well…it’s different when you have someone to cook for.”   
  
 _Goddammit, Christian._  They reached the truck and he yanked the door open, sliding into the driver’s seat and pushing his key into the ignition. Chris was already rubbing his hands together and reaching to turn up the heater, and Steve jerked his chin in the direction of the backseat. “I dug your jacket out of the closet, too, it’s fuckin’ freezing out here, man.”   
  
“I thought I left that in Vancouver!”   
  
Chris’ momma always said he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached, and over the years Steve had decided she was pretty right about that. He rubbed his hands on the wheel, glad it hadn’t had time to get too cold while he’d been inside. “So…where to?”   
  
‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’   
  
After some debate on the merits of going home and having sex vs. actually going out to lunch, Steve had managed to convince Chris that lunch was a better idea. Not that Steve had been opposed to the first option, just that he’d been pretty sure they wouldn’t be done with that by 2:00, and Chris had another block of recording time scheduled for the afternoon. Of course, Chris thought Steve telling him he didn’t plan to be done with him in that amount of time was just a little bit cruel considering he wouldn’t be home until sometime after 6, but he wasn’t about to complain.   
  
They ended up going to Johnny Rockets at Opry Mills, because even if it was crowded as fuck Christian loved their fries. They talked about everything  _but_  recording while they ate, what was going on with their parents, Jensen and Jared, football, and where they were gonna go for Christmas(Steve’s mom had put in a pretty good petition considering they’d been at the Kane’s on Christmas day last year, but momma Kane was trying to lure them to stay in Oklahoma for a whole month, take an actual vacation. It sounded pretty nice.). There was a lot of laughter and as much touching as they could manage, and Chris could feel his skin crawl impatiently when he reached over to steal the last fry and Steve grabbed his wrist.   
  
The drive back was too fast, and Chris was half tempted to tell Steve to pull over somewhere so he could at least kiss him for God’s sakes, but this was Nashville, and there wasn’t anywhere secluded enough to pull over as much in the heart of town as they were.   
  
Steve slipped the car into park, idling out in front of Bigger Picture. “So…call me when you need a ride home?”   
  
“Yeah, ok.”   
  
Steve nodded, and Chris couldn’t resist the urge to reach up and brush his hair away from those gorgeous blue eyes. “That problem song, have you got-“  
  
“Under the bottle of Jack on the coffee table.”   
  
“Well, I’ll see what I can do to it.”   
  
Chris curled his hand around the handle of the door, but he turned back and slid his hand across the seat before he pushed it open, fingers wrapping tight around Steve’s wrist. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”   
  
Steve turned his hand, pushed up Christian’s bracelets just a little to rub his thumb against his skin. “Of course I do. Why do you think I’m here?” Steve squeezed his hand, let go and grabbed onto the wheel. “Look, we’ll talk when you get home, ok? I love you.”   
  
And that was something that always managed to surprise him, because he’d never once deserved it. “Yeah. Love you too.”


End file.
